


"Well that was unexpected"

by lojo



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I'm really sorry, M/M, non-specific setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:58:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lojo/pseuds/lojo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone bets Grantaire that he can't get Jehan to write a poem about him. Grantaire takes them up on it and decides to seduce Jehan because surely that'll lead to poetry -right?  Grantaire doesn't quite expect Jehan's reaction.  Current setting AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Well that was unexpected"

**Author's Note:**

> This first m/m thing i have ever tried to write, I am so sorry if I got things wrong. Thanks for reading
> 
> Here's the prompt:  
> Someone bets Grantaire that he can't get Jehan to write a poem about him (bc he's ugly or bc he's Grantaire or whatever). Grantaire takes them up on it and seduces Jehan because he's pretty sure that will lead to poetry. The thing is he was expecting Jehan to be shy and a bit awkward in bed too but it turns out that he's incredibly experienced and it is by far the best sex Grantaire has ever had. He starts to get distracted enough by the fling that he forgets to pull Enjolras' pigtails quite so much and the Amis gradually begin to think something's seriously wrong with him. (Bonus for Joly assuming he's dying or something).
> 
> Then what?

They’d been exchanging bets all evening, ranging from daring(“put ribbons in Enjolras’ hair!”) to the downright stupid (“go steal Combeferre’s book and make him chase you”) with promises of “if you don’t you have to wear a skirt to the next protest” or “shave your head” (in Bossuets case this had been altered to “wear a bright pink wig all day”.

It had been a bet, one which Grantaire had accepted and agreed to the terms to, and there was no way he would back down.

“I bet you can’t get Jehan to write a poem about you!”

Grantaire laughed and took a swig of his bottle, “Of course I can”

“Go on then, tell us how” Bahorel said with a laugh, “what could Jehan possibly have to say about you”

“Tell you what I’ll do” he set his bottle down and leaned forward on the table, in a conspiratorial tone he dropped down to what he probably thought was a whisper; ”I’ll have sex with him” he leaned back and tapped on the table, grinning as the small group burst into laughter. 

“And how in gods name do you plan to do that?”  
“Bossuet would have better luck herding rabid sheep and coming out of it unscathed” someone said to a loud ‘hey!’ in protest.

“I’ll give him a drink, butter him up, it’ll be easy. Watch me gentlemen, this time tomorrow I’ll have a lovely ballad dedicated to my wiles”. 

“Yeah, but he’s so gentle and lovely and he cares about things, and you’re so... you” Courfeyrac said. Crass, sceptical, discourteous, uncouth. There were a great many things Courfeyrac could have described him as but it would have taken too long and he was too drunk to be eloquent at the moment, the point being that Jehan would almost certainly reject Grantaire, let alone write a poem for him. 

“If I do this” then he corrected, “when I do this, you all owe me a drink each”

Having taken the bet, he drained his glass and meandered over to the table where the nerds were sitting. Enjolras shot him a filthy look, he was currently focusing on the wording of his next lot of flyers about their protest the following weekend and having his hair pulled on and decorated without his consent had not been funny At All. The very last thing he wanted was to be hassled by the dark haired idiot who wanted his constant attention. The venomous glare turned to confusion when Grantaire walked right past him without even a glance, Combeferre looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Jehan was sitting by the window, looking out at the night time scenery, sighing and fantasising about love, and writing down his thoughts. It was quieter in this corner, he could actually hear his thoughts over the drunken rabble that almost always formed when the speeches had finished and nobody was in a rush to leave.  
He looked up with mild surprise at Grantaire, who usually favoured pestering Enjolras over talking to anybody else. 

“Evening” he’s said with a smile, half-covering his writing in a sudden fit of self-consciousness.

“Good evening, fair poet” he said with grandeur, turning to flip off the laughter from his drunk friends. “Can I get you a drink?”

 

-

 

Grantaire was utterly shellshocked. This evening was not how he had expected it to go, at all. 

He’d expected that when he’d lain a hand on Jehans thigh the man would blush and carefully remove the offending limb and maybe tell him he wasn’t comfortable with how forward he was being in a way that skirted around the issue so as to avoid hurting Grantaire’s feelings, Grantaire would respond by buying him another drink and then they would- but it hadn’t gone like that, at all. 

He’d been all but thrown onto Jehans bed –he didn’t even have time to comment on the pink duvet cover because Jehan was atop him, leaning down to kiss and suck and bite anywhere he could reach, fingers working quickly and deftly to undo his trousers. He shifted back and started stroking Grantaires length, leaving him gasping – who taught Jehan to do that- and Jehan leaned in for another kiss, mashing his mouth upon Grantaires, licking his lips and pressing his tongue inside Grantaires mouth. 

The blonde slowed his jerking and ran his thumb over the tip of Grantaires dick, making him gasp slightly. Jehan caught this and covered Grantaires mouth with his own again. He was getting close, there was barely time to breathe, and then Jehan was off him and pulling at his own pants, stripping off much quicker than Grantaire could have in his own state of inebriation and arousal. He crawl towards Jehan, intent on returning the favour but the poet pushed him back onto the bed, “Don’t worry about me, I want you to stay there” he said with a slight smirk. 

Jehan turned and picked his way over to his bedside table and pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube. 

“Do you, want to?” he asked, holding up the foil packet. 

“Yes, oh my god how is that even a question” Grantaire was beyond caring, he wanted it and he wanted it now. His skin was hot and flushed, and he missed the feeling of Jehans hands on his body.

He didn’t have to wait too long and Jehan was back, flicking the cap on the lube and pouring it onto his fingers and the brunette was eagerly spreading his legs. Jehan didn’t play around, he circled a finger once,twice then pressed it in. He pulled his finger in and out softly and gradually increasing in speed until he had a rhythm that had Grantaire squirming, adding a second and third finger without much trouble. 

Jehan leaned down to kiss Grantaires neck again, sucking at one particular point, until he’d decided Grantaire had had enough and he finally, finally replaced the fingers with something much more substantial. He didn’t know when Jehan even had time to put the condom on but it was definitely there, the head of his cock had gone in without too much resistance. Jehan was slowly pushing the rest of his dick in but he took too long, Grantaire had grown inpatient and shifted his hips and pushed the rest of himself onto Jehan, making them both groan. 

He hooked one of Grantaire’s knees over his shoulder and began thrusting in earnest, not quite pulling out all the way before he pushed back in, pushing Grantaire back slightly. He kept an impressive pace that had Grantaire clutching at the bed cover and curling his toes. Jehan began jerking Grantaire again, keeping pace with his thrusts which should have been impossible to achieve because how was he able to concentrate on anything more than rutting into him? But he didn’t have too long to think about it because it all became too much and his breath was taken and he threw his head back with his loudest groan yet, shuddering slightly as he came. Jehan was soon after him, breathing heavily and grinning.

He lay on the bed gasping and trying to get his breath back. Jehan pulled out of him carefully and rolled the condom off and tied it up , disappearing for a moment to return with a cloth to clean Grantaire up, disappearing again to put it away. When he returned for the second time empty handed, he grinned goofily at the man lying on his bed. He climbed onto the bed, and with a bit of artful rearranging of their bodies they managed to lay underneath the covers. 

Jehan looked like he was about to laugh, which made Grantaire say “what?”

“how was that? Not too bad for an oblivious little poet, huh?”

“oh” he said, feeling slightly embarrassed “you heard me then”

“Oh R, I think everybody in the café heard you, you were yelling everything”

Grantaire threw his head back and laughed, and Jehan joined him. 

 

-

 

The next day was slightly awkward (for the dark haired man anyway, Jehan had cheerfully made them both omelettes and given Grantaire headache tablets and plenty of water). Grantaire was still dumbstruck at Jehan, and he felt foolish that Jehan had seduced him when it was meant to be the other way around. 

If he had to describe how he felt, he would probably say the sensation would be the same as being trampled by a wildebeest on crack. He would have to ask Jehan to model for him, he wanted to paint the blonde who, once in the bedroom, lost any vestige of shyness. 

 

-

 

He’d had a shower, trying not to feel too disappointed that Jehan had declined to join him. When he dried off and began to get dressed, he’d made it as far as pulling his trousers back on when Jehan shook his head.

“Come here” Jehan, who had been up for hours and was already dressed in fresh clothes and had re-made the bed, was sitting up with a pen in hand. Grantaire did as he was told, settling between Jehan’s legs and resting against the blonde’s chest. Jehan pulled one of Grantaires arms toward him and began writing on it.

An hour later and the majority of skin on Grantaires upper half had been written on, Jehan taking a special delight in tracing the pen over the ticklish parts of Grantaires sides and his back. He’d been careful not to smudge the drying ink on the bed cover, and had waited a while before moving too much. He was covered in verses, rhyming couplets, limericks, and free verses. And when he had run out of things to write about in his floral way, he began to draw swirling patterns. 

“There, now you haven’t lost the bet. Although, if you had asked me to I could probably have made something up that would have passed”  
“where would the fun have been in that?”  
Jehan tilted his head and Grantaire leaned up for another kiss.

 

-

 

Not long after he’d left Jehan’s apartment and was heading for his own, Grantaire’s phone vibrated in his pocket, he pulled it out.

Jehan: hey, R you should stay over again sometime.  
Grantaire: hell yes  
Jehan: ok. Great. :o) 

 

-

 

That night at the Café, Grantaire was still shell-shocked. All he could see was Jehans face and hear the noises he’d made, and he didn’t seem to notice the bottle he was bringing to his lips was empty. 

The others, however, did notice. They tried talking to him, asking what the previous night had been like (he vaguely remembered being catcalled as he’d been all but dragged out of the café by Jehan). Someone even went so far as to say “oh my god Enjolras is dancing on the table naked”. When even that failed to get a response, they began to get worried.

“I think he’s broken” someone said.

“He’s been so quiet; do you think he’s sick?”

“shut up Joly’ll get worried”

“Oh my god does he have a fever?” Too late, Joly was there in full medical-student force. “We could be sitting here watching him dying and not even know it” Joly slapped his hand to Grantaires forehead to gauge his temperature. “We need to get him to a hospital I think he’s contracted that disease I was telling you about, the one where-”

Bahorel waved away Joly’s fussing and clapped Grantaire on the cheek, “Wake up!”

Grantaire blinked, looking at the many worried faces surrounding him. “What?”

“We thought you were dying. Dude, why are you so quiet”

“Who cares about that, how was last night” Courfeyrac butted in.

Grantaire grinned, “Jesus Christ Courf, you could have warned me”

“Warned you about what?”

“Havent you already fucked him?”

“No? Why, what was he like, was he as delicate as you were saying yesterday? C’mon, spill” He was like a kid on Christmas eve, bouncing in his seat. “Tell me tell me tell me!”

Grantaire shook his head, black curls going everywhere. “Sleeping with Jehan is one of the best decisions I have ever made in my life”. He refused to divulge more information after that, much to everyones dismay (especially Courfeyrac who slumped over the table and stretched his arms out to Grantaire who avoided them to the best of his ability without actually moving away).

“By the way, he wrote me some poems”. He pulled back both of his sleeves, showing off the blue ink of the pen that had mostly survived the day. His friends didn’t even care about the poems; they were more interested in hearing the gory detail of the events of the previous night.

He simply turned to where Jehan was sitting and they shared a goofy smile, a look which Courfeyrac took extreme interest in.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an extremely awkward person when it comes to actually writing sex, but I tried. Thanks for reading.


End file.
